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Just a Poem - Charon - 02-19-2018
Do not go gentle into that good night
Dylan Thomas, 1914 - 1953
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
From The Poems of Dylan Thomas, published by New Directions. Copyright
RE: Just a Poem - Charon - 02-19-2018
To Last
D. A. Powell, 1963
I have had to learn the simplest things
last. Which made for difficulties...
—Charles Olson
We know from accounts of the judgment of Paris how Love took first:
the apple burnished by—it turns out—her own husband, working the bellows,
forging to Discord’s specifications, her need to break the spaghetti strands
of marriage, her undiluted vitriol, that oversaw his flux and foundry,
guided the sparking hammer to its urgent deed.
Spoils of war.
Power, undeterred and wily as it always is, the figural eye and its agency,
took gladly the second chair, from which advantage machinations could be seen.
Advised, conferred, deployed the second wave of ships, provided mercenary aid
to every side and fanned the air, and made her counsel with all sides, supporting
every one and none, out-waiting tides.
If we believe the Greeks, the spokes of Fortune’s wheel in constant turn would allow
the last to be the first—beatitudes bestowed upon the losing side,
a draught of time in which the wily ones, by their equine portage made
the mind the victor over Love’s inconstancy and strife,
and, over brute acts, gave thought dominion in a golden age. But that’s just myth.
Wisdom, you are the last to whom I turn. Not for your spear,
fashioned in that same fire as all bright jealous objects of desire. But for your shield.
Protect the least of us. Or lift me from this battlefield,
and take me home
RE: Just a Poem - Charon - 02-19-2018
Only a Dad
Edgar Guest, 1881 - 1959
Only a dad with a tired face,
Coming home from the daily race,
Bringing little of gold or fame
To show how well he has played the game;
But glad in his heart that his own rejoice
To see him come and to hear his voice.
Only a dad with a brood of four,
One of ten million men or more
Plodding along in the daily strife,
Bearing the whips and the scorns of life,
With never a whimper of pain or hate,
For the sake of those who at home await.
Only a dad, neither rich nor proud,
Merely one of the surging crowd
Toiling, striving from day to day,
Facing whatever may come his way,
Silent whenever the harsh condemn,
And bearing it all for the love of them.
Only a dad but he gives his all
To smooth the way for his children small,
Doing with courage stern and grim,
The deeds that his father did for him.
This is the line that for him I pen:
Only a dad, but the best of men
FOR ALL THE FATHERS WE LOVE SO DEARLY. LOVE THEM WHILST YOU CAN. SUNDAY, JUNE 17th. Love them whilst you can. *But you will see them again*
RE: Just a Poem - Charon - 06-11-2018
If Tomorrow Starts Without Me
Submitted By: ScrappinTXn
If Tomorrow Starts Without Me…
If tomorrow starts without me, and I’m not here to see,
If the sun should rise you find your eyes all filled with tears for me;
I wish so much you wouldn’t cry the way you did today,
While thinking of the many things we didn’t get to say.
I know how much you love me, as much as I love you
And each time that you think of me, I know you’ll miss me too.
But when tomorrow starts without me please try to understand,
That an angel came and called my name and took me by the hand.
He said my place was ready, in heaven far above
And that I’d have to leave behind all those I dearly love.
But as I turned and walked away a tear fell from my eye.
For all my life I’d always thought, I didn’t want to die.
I had so much to live for, so much left yet to do.
It seemed almost impossible that I was leaving you.
I thought of all the yesterdays the good ones and the bad.
I thought of all the love we shared, and all the fun we had.
If I could relive yesterday, just even for a while,
I’d say goodbye and kiss you and maybe see you smile.
But then I fully realized that this could never be,
For emptiness and memories would take the place of me.
When I thought of worldly things I might miss come tomorrow
I thought of you and when I did my heart was filled with sorrow.
When I walked through heavens gates I felt so much at home.
God looked down and smiled at me from his great golden throne
He said, “This is eternity and all I’ve promised you”
Today your life on earth has passed but here life starts anew.
I promise no tomorrow, but today will always last
And since each day is the same there’s no longing for the past.
You have been so faithful so trusting and so true.
Though there were times you did some things you knew you shouldn’t do.
You have been forgiven and now at last you’re free.
So won’t you come and take my hand and share my life with me?
So when tomorrow starts with out me don’t think we’re far apart,
For every time you think of me, I’m right here in your heart.
Author: David Romano
RE: Just a Poem - Charon - 06-11-2018
I SPEAK...I WRITE....I LIVE
Sun, 07/14/2013 - 22:13 -- JBWELL3
From the internal core of my earth I release a world of bright hope
From my hands, flowing streams of smooth syllables nourish the barren lands of men's souls
This is why I speak... I write... I live
Ancestral chains binding free spirits of orators and writers past
Who spoke hope with eagle soaring songs
While upon cotton their sweat, tears, and blood reveal their personal stories
This is why I speak… I write... I live
Nylon arms attempt to drown the sky of glowing possibilities
Constricting hands from releasing nourishing flow of life to barren souls
And breaking stable courage into declining fear
Yet through their declining fear... scars of pain revealed inevitable determination
While gasping breaths spoke of the future being just a whisper away
And silence being the empty pages for me and my generation
To write our story
This is why I speak... I write... I live
With my voice, I will emancipate the captive
With my pen, I will cut chains of mediocrity
With my Life, I will toil the earth...
Fighting through slashes of statistical whips
Breaking ropes of restricted inferiority
And project a roar of change…
And even if my voice should be reduced to a whisper or temporary silence
May the scars of my life, the blood sweat and tears of my heart.
Remain in the fabric of this cotton I leave to the next generation
For when my voice and hands cease to speak... may my recorded legacy
Water the seed for new and better change upon the story of another
That will birth even greater change... For this reason
This is why I speak... I write.... I live.
Poetry Slam: Why I Write Scholarship (CLOSED)
RE: Just a Poem - Charon - 06-11-2018
Share
THE CORNER
Wed, 05/30/2018 - 22:39 -- MusicalMystery13
There’s a dark corner
in the back of my room
it speaks to me
And says “I’ll be there soon”
As I lie on my bed
in the fetal position
my eyes are closed
hopin and wishin
That maybe, one day
my dreams will come true
that I don’t have too be here
so down and blue
The corner keeps talking
'bout how i’m gonna die
all i can do
is lie there and cry
As the corner gets closer
and takes me in
my soul begins to burn
so does my skin
My bones shall lie there
turning to dust
my bed surrounding
nothing but rust
Poetry Slam: Slam for Suicide Awareness and Prevention
RE: Just a Poem - Charon - 06-11-2018
Poem About Demons Inside
This poem is sort of about me and my demons, although I've never actually gone to a bridge to jump off it. I find comfort in writing about how I feel, because generally it helps people to understand how I feel as well. It's hard to show people how we feel, so I choose to express myself through art, music and writing. I hope you enjoy my poem as much as I did writing it. Stay strong.
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Demons Of Darkness
© Olivia B
Published: September 2015
She stood on the bridge
In silence and fear
For the demons of darkness
Had driven her here
They cut her heart
Right out of her chest
Making her believe
That the demons knew best
They were always there
Sometimes just out of sight
Waiting in the background
Till the time was right
These demons were destructive
Knocking down the life she knew
Hating everything about her
She hated herself too
These demons can't be seen
But they're far from fairy tales
They live inside your mind
Their evilness prevails
So on the bridge she stood
About to end the fight
Then she stopped and thought
I'll fight them one more night
edit: these are poems written by students in college. (I was offered a scholarship in 10th grade to a school for writers after winning a nationwide contest.) So, these are not for everyone. These are older poems but also tales of being bullied. So, don't freak out anyone. These are by the current crop of writers. Be grateful cuz i prefer short stories and vignettes and they can be long.
RE: Just a Poem - Charon - 06-11-2018
One Wish
© Lindsey N. Smith
Published: February 2006
If I had one last wish to make it would have to be,
that God would heal my mom and give her pain to me.
For I've never seen my mom hurt so bad in all my life,
I'd do anything and everything to take her pain and strife.
She's the only one who never lost complete faith in me,
without her here by my side I'm not sure where I'd be.
We didn't always get along but then again who does,
she taught me about the
Real world and what life really was.
I think I owe her one for all the hell I put her through,
so God if you can grant this wish for me I'll eternally be grateful to you.
And if my mom ever decides to ask why her life suddenly changed this way,
do me a favor and let her know that I said Happy late Mother's Day.
Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/one-wish
RE: Just a Poem - Charon - 06-11-2018
Sick
By Shel Silverstein
“I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox
And there’s one more--that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,
My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What’s that? What’s that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G’bye, I’m going out to play!”
Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/sick-by-shel-silverstein
RE: Just a Poem - Charon - 06-14-2018
My Pain
© Sami Chester
Published: January 2011
You try to understand
But I don't want you to
I don't think you can comprehend
The pain that I go through.
I never get to sleep
Because I cry all night
The doctors don't know what it is
Or what's wrong with my sight.
The pain's almost unbearable
Like a thousand stabbing knives
And when my skin gets wet
My body's covered in hives.
I wish that I could show you
How it hurts to breathe or move
But I know that it's not possible
So this I cannot prove.
The touch of skin or fabric
I want to scream out loud
But I know I won't do so
Cause the sound drowns in the crowd.
What's that you say
I can't hear you
Speak up please
It's my hearing too.
My muscles freeze
My joints lock
I am scared
I cannot walk.
I lay in bed
Do nothing all day
My mom brings my food up
On a tray.
I chew my food
My mouth needs to soak
I sip my water
I start to choke.
I'm scared to think
What happens next
Cause the situation
Is too complex.
Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/my-pain